BEAST

by Pace, Pepper

  She realized that she was staring, but she also realized that he was allowing it. Ashleigh quickly pushed away from him. Oh my god, she had been snuggling against him! She tried to come to her feet in horror that she had made a stranger so familiar.

  “I am so sorry.” She said quickly. His hands were still on her arms as if he was waiting for her to fall again.

  “You fainted twice.” He said. She tried not to stare into his face and looked around. He dropped his arms and she realized that she was being rude by being self-conscious. She looked at him.

  “Where am I?”

  “This is the security area of the subbasement.” He had a deep, soft voice with a country accent. “I’m Lt Christopher Jameson of the Department of Protective Services for Homeland Security.”

  She gave him a surprised look, momentarily forgetting about his scars. “In the subbasement?”

  “Yes Ma’am,” he said politely. “The employees of the Federal Building and Federal Courthouse are our protectees.”

  “Protectees...” She said testing the word. “Wow, I had no idea.”

  “No Ma’am. No one sees us. But we’re here.” Ashleigh smiled. That was nice to know.

  “I’m Ashleigh Dalton.” She blushed and tugged at her t-shirt. “And I need to really get back to work.”

  “Mrs. Dalton, you’re not trying to exercise on an empty stomach are you?” She gave him a surprised look. And he quickly continued. “Well I see you workout each morning…and you blacked out. I figured that was why.”

  She blushed again and looked away. “Yeah, I guess I wasn’t thinking.”

  “Mrs. Dalton-”

  “Miss. Please, just call me Ashleigh, spelled with a gh.” After all, she had just sat on his lap, and what a big lap it was. She had to look up at him as he towered above her. He was a giant. He was even bigger than DeAngelo. Big clothes concealed most of his muscles but she knew that he was perfectly toned beneath the sweatpants and hooded sweatshirt. She felt like such a slob around him. He’d probably felt every roll of fat when he lifted her. Feeling self conscious, she folded her arms in front of her.

  “I’ll escort you back down to the lockers. Once you get dressed I want you to visit the nurse’s station in your building. You need to get your blood pressure checked and the lump on the back of your head looked at. Will you do that, Ashleigh?”

  She gave him a surprised look. “Yeah-Yes. I’ll do that.”

  He nodded without smiling and led her out the door. Several men were moving along the corridor and she instantly knew that they had been listening at the door. She looked up at Christopher who seemed to ignore it.

  Several men nodded their heads at her as they passed. They were dressed in army fatigues and she was wearing sweats and a t-shirt. How embarrassing. Her cap was gone; she would have bed head!!! This day should just end. There was no way that she was going to work, she was going home and she was going to crawl into bed!

  They walked down a long corridor and Ashleigh realized that he had carried her here. She looked up at him. He walked very straight and tall. She should say something.

  “Thank you for helping me. I’m sorry for the trouble.”

  He looked at her quickly. “No trouble. Um…do you feel okay?”

  No, she didn’t feel okay. She felt drained but she didn’t think she was going to faint again. “I’m okay.” She said.

  They reached the security doors and he used a card to open them. “After you, Ma’am--Ashleigh.”

  Why was she so tired? Christopher was watching her but she couldn’t read his expression. He followed her into the corridor but instead of leading her to where the lockers were located he led her in a different direction. Oh hell she was all turned around. It felt like a maze to her anymore. But in a minute she was going to need to sit down. She hoped they would get to the lockers soon.

  They reached a set of elevators and he pressed the button. She saw him look at her with a sudden frown.

  “You’re crashing again. You’re about to black out.” Concern was suddenly evident in his voice and on his face.

  “What?”

  He placed his hand on her elbow to steady her and led her into the elevators. “I’m taking you directly to your nurse’s station.” There was no room for protest. He led and she went.

  “I’m feeling a little sick,” She admitted.

  He looked at her. “I know.” She wasn’t brown anymore. Now she was gray. He drew his hood on and looked down in order to shield his face just as the elevator doors opened. They hadn’t used the main elevators leading to the lobby but a back elevator that was in the same corridor as the first floor nurse’s station. Ashleigh had passed these elevators a hundred times and never noticed them.

  The man, Christopher, had taken her hand and was leading her, pulling her forward. Maybe she was going to black out. Everything was grays and blacks…

  Christopher pushed open the doors to the nurse’s area and two women wearing white scrubs looked up at him in surprise. One of the women started backing up in alarm, the other looked from the man to the gray woman and she jumped into action.

  “Get a gurney!” Things moved very fast. She was laying on a gurney, someone was taking her blood pressure, someone gave her more orange juice and she began to come around. A man, a doctor shined a light in her eyes and she blinked and turned away.

  “Mrs. Dalton? We called an ambulance. It should be here any minute. Are you taking insulin?”

  “Ambulance?!” She tried to sit up but a gentle hand was on her shoulder. She looked over and it was a man wearing a hood, Lt. Christopher Jameson. She quieted.

  “Mrs. Dalton?” The doctor was talking to her and she turned her attention back to him. “Are you diabetic?”

  “No. No.” Why was he asking her if she had diabetes?

  “You’re hypoglycemic and there is a good chance that you are falling into a diabetic coma.”

  “Coma?”

  “Basically unconsciousness due to low blood sugar.” A nurse handed her a piece of toast. “Try to eat this. We can’t give you glucose here. If the toast doesn’t work it’s the only thing that’s going to make you feel better. You have to go to the hospital. We contacted your emergency contacts and they are on their way.”

  Ashleigh rubbed her face with shaking hands. Diabetes. The doors flew open and Lance and Kendra were suddenly there flanking her bed, holding her hands, smoothing her hair, kissing her cheeks and telling her how badly she’d scared them.

  ~***~

  Christopher spent the morning filling out reports; incident reports, breach of security report, points of contact reports. When he was done he went down into the gym room and retrieved the CD and Ashleigh’s cap. He quietly stared at the monitors, ran his sweeps, but his mind was deep in thought. No one bothered him. Carlos mumbled, “She’s going to be alright, Beast.”

  He gave the man a surprised look. But Carlos tucked his head down and hurried away. Bruce walked into the security room later that evening. Christopher looked up from the screens waiting to get his ass chewed for leaving the area without permission.

  “I got a report from the hospital. The civilian…uh the girl, Miss Dalton has been released and she’s doing just fine.” Christopher sighed. “Go down into the lockers and secure her property. I don’t want any of her belongings getting stolen.”

  “Yes, sir.”He stood up quickly and hurried out the door, but paused and turned back to Bruce. “Thank you, sir.”

  “She’s a tough, cookie. She must have been feeling bad for days and came in every day and pushed herself. I didn’t have men at boot camp that push themselves as hard.”

  Christopher nodded. He agreed.

  ~***~

  “You two are making me hot!” Ashleigh grumbled. Lance was cuddled up in her bed to the right and Kendra to the left. He made to get up and Ashleigh gripped his shirt and pulled him back down. He chuckled when she sighed in contentment.

  She’d spent most of the day at the hospital. It
was confirmed; she had diabetes. Ashleigh had pulled her lip into her mouth and almost cried. The needles, the regulated diet, no more rice…She had to have PF Chang’s twice a week, she just had to!

  But sometimes when a door closed a window opened. DeAngelo had shown up at the hospital. He had been among her emergency contacts and he’d dropped everything to rush to the hospital and to be at her side! He had looked terrified when he saw her pale face. He gripped her hand and kissed her fingers.

  “Baby, what’s wrong? Are you okay, Ashleigh?” She’d stared at him in surprise. Kendra and Lance had rolled their eyes at his show of affection but had backed away—not leaving all-together, of course. But they had given her a bit of space to talk to him.

  She explained about the black out and he had blanched. “Jesus…” He had stayed with her during the diagnosis and had asked questions when the doctors explained that her A1C test was at 12 which is why she had to immediately take insulin instead of pills. He held her hand during the injections. He had even offered to drive her back home but Lance said that his WIFE would be worried about him.

  Ashleigh narrowed her eyes at Lance but it was true. “You should go. My friends are going to drive me home.”

  DeAngelo had given her a steady look. “I’m your friend too, you know.” He leaned forward and kissed her lips lightly. “I thought…I thought you would have forgiven me by now. I don’t want to lose you Ash, you gotta tell me how to make this right between us.”

  “Okay,” Lance stormed forward. “You want to know how to make everything right? You fucking disappear! You leave her alone and stay out of her life!”

  “Lance,” Kendra placed a calming hand on his narrow shoulder. Ashleigh couldn’t believe that Lance was attacking DeAngelo like that! He was half the man’s size. But in that moment he looked like he would whup DeAngelo’s ass.

  “You know what? I’m sick of your mouth!” DeAngelo stood up but Lance didn’t back down. Ashleigh tugged his hand.

  “DeAngelo…you should go.”

  He turned to her, his brow going up. “You’re choosing him over me?!”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “You chose someone else over me!”

  DeAngelo turned for the door, he paused as he left and looked at Ashleigh. “I’ll call you, Ash…when there aren’t so many people around.” He said staring pointedly at Kendra and Lance. Then he disappeared.

  Ashleigh reached her hand out for Lance and he interlocked his fingers with hers. “Are you insane?” She asked. “You’re trying to go up against DeAngelo?”

  “He doesn’t scare me.” The smaller man said as he leaned lightly against her. He placed a kiss on her forehead. “You can do better.”

  “People do learn from their mistakes,” she whispered.

  Now the three of them were huddled in her oversized bed. They’d force fed her chicken soup and it wasn’t homemade or even Progresso…but Campbell’s with that one lone little square of chicken floating in salty broth and tons of soggy noodles; and she loved every spoonful! She’d had two bowls and had even begged for crackers but they wouldn’t give her any.

  Before that they’d watched her give herself her first insulin shot. She was so scared that Kendra almost snatched the needle from her and did it herself but Lance proclaimed that she’d have to learn to do it. She finally stabbed herself and injected the medicine—all with her eyes closed. When she opened them Lance had blanched. He gave her a shaky smile.

  She dozed and when she woke up they were still there. She loved these guys.

  She went to work the next day, Kendra drove her since she had left her car and then the two went down into the subbasement together to get her things out of the locker. For some reason she decided to check the gym. It was filled with toned bodies completing their before-work exercises—but Lt. Christopher Jameson wasn’t present. Of course he wouldn’t be present. He ended his workout at 6am; an hour and a half ago.

  “What are you looking at?” Kendra asked.

  “I was looking for the guy that helped me yesterday. I wanted to tell him thanks.” She looked at her friend as they walked back to the elevators. “Didn’t you see him in the nurse’s station?”

  “What’s he look like?”

  “Well he’s a giant, at least 6’5” and he was wearing all black and a hood over his face. His face is like—all scarred up-”

  “Oh my god…do you think you were seeing the Angel of Death?! You weren’t that sick-”

  Ashleigh rolled her eyes. “I am not describing the Angel of Death. The guy I’m talking about was wearing a NIKES hoodie and sweat pants.”

  Kendra pressed the button for the elevator. “Well I didn’t see anybody like that—and I don’t want to see anybody like that. Ever.”

  Ashleigh shrugged. “He was nice. He’s in there every day when I work out.” As the doors to the elevators opened she leaned in and whispered. “This subbasement is the base of operations for Homeland Security.”

  “Really?” Kendra said dismissively.

  “You think I’m delusional.”

  The two women walked to the cafeteria. Kendra chuckled. “No. I’m just taking everything you say with a grain of salt for another few days.”

  They grabbed breakfast; Ashleigh had an egg white omelet and turkey sausage…which incidentally is what she had been eating from the canteen since dieting anyways. Well she planned to kick this diabetes thing. She was diagnosed with type 2 and if she got her weight down then there was a chance that she could throw away those dreaded needles.

  Tomorrow was Friday. She would allow herself the rest of the week and weekend to recuperate but starting Monday she planned to be right back at the gym. Before it was about remaking herself into an image more appealing to the man of her dreams, but now it was about making herself as healthy as possible.

  Christopher watched Ashleigh through the monitors as she and her friend carried their breakfast up to their office. He’d been running reports when TK announced that she was in the subbasement. Only now they called her ‘Little Trooper’

  “The Little Trooper’s back!” Carlos had called out. Several men had come running. Christopher got out of his chair and nudged people aside, a frown on his heavily scarred face.

  “She’s not planning to work out is she?” Someone asked.

  “She better not,” TK spoke. “Or I’ll be down there to spank her hiney…her very ample, nice juicy-”

  Roddy nudged him when Christopher’s face darkened. “What’s she doing?”

  “She’s looking for Beast. She wants to give him a thank you kiss.” Someone made kiss smacking noises and Beast reached out and swatted the back of their head. When the two women returned to the elevators everyone cleared out except Christopher. He sat down and flipped cameras until he located Ashleigh and her friend. She looked good, healthy, pretty. He was satisfied that she was alright. But he still didn’t turn away from the camera.

  CHAPTER 4

  Monday morning, Ashleigh got out of bed early enough to make herself a breakfast of oatmeal and a slice of wheat toast. She dressed in sweatpants that were no longer quite as tight and an oversized shirt. She looked at herself in her full-sized mirror. Why was she still fat? Okay, she was smaller; the scale said it and so did her clothes but she was still round…well, her breasts had deflated. It was the one thing she hadn’t minded being oversized.

  Ashleigh scowled and drove to work. She had to rush if she wanted to get in a full hour. As she headed for the gym she heard the faint clanging sound of bells. She hesitated, alarms, bells…clocks? And then she realized that it was part of a song. She picked up her pace and a smile came over her face. It was the Dark Side of the Moon by Pink Floyd! Lt Christopher Jamieson was a god among men for playing Time at 5:30 am!

  He was pounding on the treadmill but this time he wasn’t wearing his hoodie, just a t-shirt and sweat pants. She caught her breath and her steps faltered. She had never in her life seen such a specimen of a man. His body was sheer perfection! His back for
med the most perfect V down to a narrow waist and a round butt that begged to be pinched. His arms were wire tight with ropes of muscles. His short sleeved shirt allowed her to see that Christopher Jamieson was a ginger! He was covered in freckles…tons and tons of brown freckles over his pale skin.

  He turned off the treadmill and lifted the bottom of his shirt to wipe the sweat from his face. Oh god…his six pack was magazine perfect, internet porn perfect, but then it instantly disappeared when he dropped his shirt back down. He gave her a crooked smile…or maybe just a smile that was crooked because of his scars.

  “Welcome back. How are you feeling?” He asked in that low rumbling country drawl.

  “I wanted to thank you.” She said offering her own smile. “Turns out I have type 2 diabetes and I was in pretty bad condition.” If not for him…well it could have been very bad for her.